


Somehow You're Sitting Here

by friskynotebook



Series: Plausible Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars RPF
Genre: Angst, Birthday, F/M, Fluff, So Married, angst with happy ending, like legally married, married, plausible verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 10:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7681171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friskynotebook/pseuds/friskynotebook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harrison is in a weird funk after celebrating is 74th birthday. Good thing Carrie's there to help him out and remind him just how loved he is. One shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somehow You're Sitting Here

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this on Harrison’s birthday, so it still counts as a birthday fic, right? Right. Sorry for the delay in posting—life got in the way.
> 
> This is set in my plausible verse, where Carrie and Harrison slowly fall in love and eventually marry after his divorce from Melissa. The stories will be written out of order because I’m a reckless rule breaker. All you need to know to understand this is that Harrison and Carrie married in spring 2011, and they’re both in Episode VIII.
> 
> The title is taken from the Kerrigan-Lowdermilk song, “Five and a Half Minutes,” as sung by the great Katie Thompson. You can listen to the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8MtNj1ac_A.
> 
> Special thanks to hewouldve for doing amazing beta work and everyone at the Han/Leia Slack chat for their hand-holding and support. This is dedicated to titasjournal, who’s been feeling crappy lately, and I hope this makes her smile.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is real person fanfiction. I don’t mean any disrespect with this or any other story I post. Also, I own nothing. If you want any money from me, I’ll help you look.
> 
> With that, on with the show!

Harrison turned over in bed for what had to have been the thousandth time that night. His eyes darted towards the clock—1:13 a.m. _Shit._ He squeezed his eyes shut and sighed through his nose. He wasn’t getting much sleep tonight.

The cool breeze coming through the window or his wife’s soft snores beside him did little to ease his turmoiled mind. The bed creaked as he shifted his weight. _This’ll do a number on my back_. He smiled wryly. _Fine day to sound like an old man_.

Harrison pulled off the covers and slid out of bed as quietly as he could, careful not to disturb Carrie. Tiptoeing out of the room, he stopped for a moment in the doorway, glancing back at his wife. She sighed softly in her sleep, her face peaceful. He smiled at her before turning away.

He padded into the kitchen of their rented London home, flipping on the under counter lights and filling the coffee machine with water. As he waited for the coffee to brew, he ran a hand over his face, trying to get rid of his anxiety.

 _Why the hell can’t I just be happy on my birthday?_ It wasn’t as if it was a bad day. He and Carrie celebrated at the Savoy with their daughters, Billie and Georgia, and some of the Episode VIII cast. He smiled, remembering Carrie’s hand brushing his thigh, Billie and Georgia conspiring with Daisy to decorate his trailer with balloons all week, John telling the waiter it was his best friend’s birthday.

“God, how did I get so lucky?” he whispered to himself. For all intents and purposes, he was living his dream. He was married to the love of his life, had five beautiful children, a fulfilling career, the ability to pursue his passions.

The coffee machine’s beeping broke him out of his thoughts. Harrison grabbed a mug and poured the coffee into it. Walking to the fridge, he pulled out creamer and poured it in the mug, mixing it in with sweetener. He sat down on the couch, resting his head in his hands.

He sighed. _Too bad your passions almost got you killed_. The thought hit him like a freight train, almost leaving him breathless. _I almost destroyed my family_. Faint memories of his plane crashes raced through his mind, taking him back to when he believed he would never see his family again. He set the mug down and leaned against the back of the couch. _I’m 74 years old. What have I done?_

Harrison thought back to his past marriages, how he hurt the mothers of his children. His mind drifted to Melissa, her death so fresh on his mind. Sure, they had two kids, but she had been trapped in a marriage where they were nothing more than roommates—and she died alone. If only he could have given her back those years and spared his kids that heartbreak …

He shook his head. _I can’t think like that_. If he’d never married Melissa, he’d never have had Georgia and Malcolm, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything. _But you strung Carrie along for thirty years_.

Harrison’s heart clenched. He’d probably never forgive himself for the pain he’d caused her. And even though they were together now and happier than ever, the voice in the back of his head reminded him of all the wasted time, missed anniversaries, stolen kisses they’d never get back.

 _Fuck, I’m getting old_. He groaned, running a hand through his thick gray hair. _I could die tomorrow and leave Carrie and the kids behind and all these … mistakes I’ve made will haunt me and—_

“Honey?”

Harrison looked up sharply, turning to the doorway. His wife leaned against the frame, looking adorable and confused.

His lips quirked up in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey.”

Carrie walked over to sit beside him, wrapping her left arm around his right. She rested her head against his shoulder. “You okay?”

He hummed in the affirmative, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “Did I wake you?”

“The bed’s cold without you.”

Harrison smirked. “So I’m just your personal heater?”

She laughed against his shoulder. “Something like that.” Carrie paused. “Did you have a good birthday?”

He nodded. “Of course—I spent it with the people I love. I wish all our kids could have been there, but …” He smiled. “It was a really good day.”

Carrie looked up at him. “So why are you up brooding at three in the morning?”

Harrison sighed. He should have known his wife would figure him out. “Just thinking.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

He stayed silent. Carrie didn’t say anything either, seeming to wait for him to speak. She rested her head back on his shoulder.

“Do I deserve any of this?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She raised her head, furrowing her brow. “What? What do you mean?”

“What have I done with my life? I make movies—“

“—that entertain and inspire people—“

“My insane need to fly has caused so much damage—“

“—which would have been much worse if you weren’t such a good pilot—“

Harrison’s voice broke. “And I’ve hurt so many people.”

Carrie’s eyes softened. “Harrison—“

“I know we’ve talked about this before, but—“ He cut himself off, standing up and running a hand through his hair. “I can’t stop thinking about Mary and Melissa and you and the kids and how much I’ve hurt you all. Maybe it’s just some birthday feeling, but I’m getting old and I’ve made so many bad choices in my life.” He looked up at her. “Carrie, what have I accomplished?”

She stood up and walked over to him, standing on her tiptoes and cradling his face in her hands. She tilted his head down, closer to her level. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

Harrison reluctantly met her gaze.

“You have accomplished so much in your life, Harrison. Really. You are incredible.”

He sighed. “Carrie—“

She shook her head firmly and lowered her hands down to his, gently tugging him back to the couch with her. “Come here.”

He sat down. Carrie hitched up her nightgown and straddled him, resting her hands on his shoulders.

She looked him in the eyes. “Listen to me—no matter what is going on in life, we all have a choice. Even when it seems like there’s nothing we can do and there’s no options, we always have choices. Some are good and some are bad—“

Harrison hung his head. “I’ve made a lot of bad ones in my life, haven’t I?”

Carrie cupped his cheek with her hand, forcing him to look at her. “Here’s the thing—if you make a bad choice, five minutes later you can make a good choice. And honey, you’ve made a lot of good choices.”

He nodded, her words starting to sink in.

She stroked his cheek with her thumb. “You’ve done so much good with your life. Our children are better people because they have you as a father. I’m a better person because you’re my husband.” She touched her nose to his. “And your movies aren’t that bad either.”

Harrison gave her a half smile, but his eyes still held pain. “But Mary and Melissa—“

“—loved you,” she interrupted. “So much. Things may not have worked out, but they were happy.”

“I could have been better.”

“So could everyone. But you did the best you could for your family, and you keep trying to be better every day. You are a good person, and I love you.”

He relaxed, wrapping his arms around her.

“I love you, too,” Harrison said, gently kissing her lips. “I’m sorry for bringing this up tonight.”

Carrie wrapped her arms around his neck. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

He breathed out through his nose. “Today was supposed to be happy.”

“It’s still a happy day,” she replied. “I don’t care what’s going on—if you need me to tell you how much I love you and remind you of who you are, I will do it. You’ve done it for me before, and you’ll probably do it again.”

Harrison smiled a real smile this time. “What did I do to deserve you?”

She kissed his nose. “Honey, you don’t have to do anything. Who you are is more than enough for me.”

He buried his face into her shoulder. “I love you so much.”

Carrie ran her fingers through his hair, kissing his temple. “I love you too, Harrison.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Harrison focusing on his wife’s breathing, the feeling of her in his arms, the faint sounds of traffic outside their house.

Carrie’s voice broke into his thoughts. “You wanna go back to sleep?”

He nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah.”

She shifted off his lap and took his hand, Harrison standing up after her. Carrie started to walk, but he tugged on her hand. She looked back, a question on her face.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told her, a soft smile lightening his features.

She brought his hand to her lips. “Happy birthday, hotshot.”

He grinned and led her to their bedroom. “The next one will be even better.”


End file.
